


Strange Breed

by stvrkey



Category: The Adventure Zone (Balance), The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Character Study, Everyone else has done a forgiveness fic so I thought I'd better throw in, Found Family, Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-03-13 06:49:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18935620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stvrkey/pseuds/stvrkey
Summary: Lup and Taako are ninety-eight years young, arcane chefs of the highest standard, connoisseurs of life. Lucretia Darrington is nineteen, shy bordering on skittish, and about to be swallowed by a century of heartache. The Charity Board of Lup-and-Taako has made its decision: Lucretia Darrington is not going to get hurt on their watch.A forgiveness fic focused on the fact that before Lucretia was the smartest person in the multiverse, Director of the Bureau of Balance, and Saviour of Faerun, she was the Starbaster Crew Baby.





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> (Strange Breed from Family by Mother Mother)
> 
> This will likely be updated in dribs and drabs, most of the chapters work as stand-alones.

Taako and Lup first meet Lucretia in the IPRE dining hall, as some numbskull dweeb rings her out over her last paper on intra-planar physics, talking shit and making a scene about her scientific method and critical analysis because like

That’s offensive?

But this is nerd school and they are _up to their necks_ in losers who apparently think talking shit about someone’s referencing style is like, a sick burn or something.

Taako is one hundred percent ignoring it, because it’s boring as all fuckout, and honestly he’s more concerned about the culinary offence of the canteen’s mac and cheese. Not that he’s not eating it, because Taako does not turn down food, ever. But like, its still offensive. This is supposed to be a nice school, they had to hustle _so hard_ to get in here, and what’s their reward? Watery mac and cheese. He’s gonna drown the school’s chef in it, how that for some poetic fucking irony. He says as much to Lup through the increasingly irritating level of noise pollution as the dweebosaur really ramps up his assault on Lucretia’s selection bias. Lup doesn’t reply, because Lup is looking at Lucretia in that very special way she has, which means she’s about nose her way into a fight that has absolutely nothing to do with them, and probably get Taako punched in the face.

“Lup, no,” he moans quietly.

“Lup, yes,” she says, as is her wont, before standing up and sauntering over to where Lucretia is hunched over her book. Lucretia obviously falls into the category of people who think that if they stay quiet and small, they’ll avoid getting hurt. The twins might not share much in the way of conflict resolution strategy, but they agree on this at least: quiet and small won’t save you, so you might as well be huge and deafening.

Lup stands over the dweebmachine and smiles at him until his voice peters out.

Taako knows from long experience, it’s not a smile you want directed at your face.

“I’m sitting here now,” she says, fucking, _chirpy_ , and sits down next to Lucretia.

“Uhh,” the guy says, “So-”

Lup looks at him like he’s just the stupidest thing on the entire planet. Shelooks at him like she’s internally debating whether or not he has _sentience_.

“So you can’t sit with us, broskie,” says Taako, throwing himself into the chair across from Lup, his godawful mac and cheese tray clattering to the table. “We’ve got a fucking mmm _reputation_ to maintain.” He props his feet up on the table and considers the idiot from under the brim of his hat. _Is_ he sentient? The world may never know. “No pondlife allowed. Multiple-celled organisms _onl-y hom-ie.”_

Lup clearly tires of this convo sitch, and sparks shoot out of the tip of her wand, making the pondlife jump.

“Later skater,” says Taako, turning away from his boring fucking face and back to his food, Pondlife McGee essentially ceasing to exist in the face of Taako’s boredom.

“I’m not kidding Lulu, this is the worst goddamn thing I’ve ever eaten,” he says, scooping another pile of mac and cheese into his mouth.

“It’s absolutely quadruply not, Taako, remember that time we ate rats for two weeks?”

“No. I’m very judicious with memory repression, that’s why I’m the chill twin and you’re the twin that keeps barbecue roasting podlife.” Taako makes a vague waving gesture over his shoulder at the idiot’s escape route.

“Um-”

Lucretia interjects and Taako looks at her in surprise cause he’d honestly forgotten she was there.

“Thank you, both of you for- _intervening_.”

“Don’t sweat it,” says Lup.

At the same time as Taako mumbles, “Don’t look at me homie, I don’t give a _shit_.”

“Ignore my brother,” says Lup, “He’s a bad person.”

“No please, ignore my sister, she’s an _idiot._ ”

Lucretia kind of laughs at them, he guesses because they’re hilarious natch, and says, “I’m Lucretia Darrington. I know you’re Lup and Taako - I’m sorry, I don’t know your last names?”

“Hear that Lup, we’re renowned.”

“Infamous, right?”

“Legends in our own right, I’m sure.”

“I’m Lup Taaco,” says Lup. “With, like, a C.”

“Your full name is Taako Taaco?” Lucretia asks Taako.

“No it’s Taako Loop,” says Taako, inspecting his fingernails.

“We don’t actually have last names,” Lup confesses to Lucretia, “We just thought it would be a good goof on the enrolment form.”

“Except now our last names are different, which is a problem so, just so you know-” Taako points a finger in Lucretia’s face, “If she dies, I get her shit. Thats the rules. I am _next in line of succession, baby._ Spread the good news.”

“I’ll make a note,” says Lucretia, smiling again.

“What are you working on bro?” Lup says, peering at Lucretia’s book.

Taako raps on the table, “Point of order, Lulu, we’ve already discussed how you can’t call other people _bro_ . It just confuses the narrative. Is she our bro? Are we triplets? No. Find another colloquialism _sis_.”

“Okay but woman-we-just-met-in-the-canteen is kinda wordy dontcha _think_?” 

“Okay but listen. Could you- why would you instantly jump to like, how The Terminator talks. Just like, call her dude, or pal, _or her name,_ like, what is _wrong_ with you?”

“What’s wrong with _you,_ doofus.”

“Whatever it is, it doesn’t make me speak like a fucking _loser_ , dingus.”

“It’s a report on planar variation and how it interacts with the light of creation.”

“Hey, we got an MC up in here,” says Taako.

“You’re a poet and you didn’t even know it,” says Lup.

“You’re a tiny baby, what are you even doing writing things,” asks Taako, sliding the report away from her with one long finger (it’s actually pretty tough, she doesn’t let go very easy).

“I’m _eighteen_ ,” says Lucretia.

“We’re _ninety-eight_ ,” says Taako, “You are literally a foetus.”

“Oh my god Taako, she was born when we were in our _eighties_. Can you imagine? We would have killed her, we don’t know anything about child care.”

“Why are- In this scenario why are _we_ the ones charged with her care. Like how did that-”

“Well we can’t just leave a _baby_ , Taako.”

“I could leave a baby.”

“Yes but listen. You don’t get a say in our humanitarian endeavours, that is precedent goddamn fact. There is no vote for Taako on that board.”

“No fucking worries sister mine, you’re straight up _banned_ from the survival branch of our enterprise. All life and death decisions come straight to me, do not pass go, have fun in the fucking _charity_ department, with the _baby_.”

“I’m not a baby!” Lucretia semi-shouts. “I’m not- I’m an adult! I’m a grown woman! I-”

“Whatever you say bubbeleh,” says Taako, “So are you signing up for the space mish? Yaknow, as a grown adult woman and all.”

The 180 subject change stops her short, which, she’s gonna need to get over that if she wants to keep up with Twin Time.

“I- I mean I don’t know? The light of creation is fascinating, and I’d love to learn about the planar systems first hand but I don’t know- I don’t know that I’m _good_ enough.”

“Well not with that attitude,” Taako mutters.

“Who cares if you’re good enough?” Lup says, “Don’t ever ask anyone else to tell you that you’re good enough, bubbeleh. That’s crazy town. You decide if you’re good enough and, sidenote, the answer to that question should _always_ be yes. And then you just go and get whatever the fuck you want. Take it if you have to, hell, that’s what we do.”

“But don’t take anything from us, because we’ll legit set you on fire.”

“Oh we totally will,” confirms Lup regretfully, “Sorry, it’s policy.”

And Lucretia just like, smiles at them. As if they’ve given her something really special.


	2. Chapter 2

 

The job application process for a position onboard the Starblaster starts out simple enough. Lucretia submits a portfolio of her work, her ghostwriting, her historical analyses and her research on the planar system. They take into account her grades and her professors’ references, and she has an interview with Captain Davenport and a board of IPRE directors where she answers questions like, “What do you think you will bring to this mission that sets you apart from other applicants?”

A part of Lucretia doubts herself, thinks quietly that there probably _isn’t_ much that makes her uniquely suited to the job, and probably there’s quite a lot that makes her _unsuited_ , starting with her age and inexperience, and moving on from there. But the twins have rooted something deep in her mind, the concept of confidence as an offensive tool, a battering ram with which to get you where you want to be. She’s a little embarrassed to admit it to herself, because the twins probably forgot her the moment she moved out of their immediate range of sight, but the impact they made on her in a five minute conversation - in between snipes at the canteen catering staff - is like a tectonic plate on her consciousness.

They joked about it but the twins _are_ legendary at the Institute. Aloof but somehow ever-present, charming whirlwinds of chaos who graduated joint top of their class _three years early_ , all the while never taking a single thing seriously. They are _untouchable_ and Lucretia’s brief brush with them keeps her up at night for reasons she can’t understand. She thinks maybe she just didn’t know it was an option, to do whatever she liked, fuck the consequences.

She takes the interview by storm, flaunts her skills, her abilities and strengths. She lists the languages she can speak and the books she’s written. She doesn’t nearly touch the dazzling arrogance of the twins, but she reaches a quiet confidence that has the members of the panel nodding their heads encouragingly.

Which has landed her here, in the strangest, last phase of the selection process.

They’re in the huge room used for strength and combat training, and the bond machine, the whirling circle of the light of creation, is set on the dias up front. On the stage Davenport is talking to Barry Bluejeans, one of the engineers who helped build the bond machine when the light touched down some ten months ago.  About thirty people, Lucretia among them, have made it to this part of the selection. It’s the first time many of them have seen the bond machine, and though Lucretia has been near it before for research she is struck anew by the brilliance of the light. It is warm, and white, and luminous. She has no idea what part it can possibly play in a job interview. From the perplexed faces of the people around here, she guesses she’s not alone in her confusion.

An arm slings itself around her shoulder and she jumps.

“It’s the _baby_ , Taako!” Lup exclaims, squeezing Lucretia in a quick, fast sideways hug.

Lucretia acknowledges internally - because it’s good to be honest if only with yourself - that if anyone else were to call her a baby she would at the very least be mildly irritated. But the twins are too charming by far, and Lucretia feels herself again, reluctantly charmed.

“Way to go, foetus, you did it,” says Taako, “Did you take on board the old Taako Words of Wisdom, hmmm? You should know there’s a commission fee for all successes that are a direct result of my aphorisms, and I will collect, you have been _warned_.”

Lucretia laughs. It’s not a frequent occurrence for her normally, but she seems to spend most of her time with the twins holding down a smile. “I did, actually. You were very- Inspiring.”

On stage, Captain Davenport clears his throat and gets the attention of room, excluding Lup and Taako.

“Wait wasn’t it me who gave the words of wisdom?” asks Lup, “I’m sure it was. Taako you bitch, commission fee is _mine_.”

“Lulu, listen. We have the _exact same_ set of life experiences, any words of wisdom are coming from a _shared pool_ , okay? Just because you happened to _say_ them-”

“Absolutely not, that is the-”

Captain Davenport clears his throat as Taako plunges on-

“And further to that any profits are going _into_ a shared pool, unless you have a secret fucking _fantasy_ _ISA_ I know nothing about, so what does it matter if-”

“Because of the _acclaim_ , Taako, I _deserve_ the _acclaim_!”

Up on stage, Captain Davenport brings his microphone to the speaker and feedback screeches around the hall. Both the twin’s ears shoot straight up in the air.

“Hehem, thank you.”

Lup and Taako shoot identical looks of disgust at the stage. Lucretia is forcefully reminded of cats who have just been hoisted up by the ruff.

“Congratulations to all of you for making it this far in the selection process,” says Danveport loudly, surveying the room,  “If you are standing here today, it is a vast testament to your dedication and skill. If we could take all of you, we would, but as it stands there are only six places available. With that in mind, we have proceeded to a more - ah - _experimental_ stage of selection.”

Lucretia feels a hole deep in her stomach. She hasn’t prepared for this, she has no idea what to expect. What if she fails? What if she does _terribly_ , in front of everyone?

Next to her, Taako is inspecting his nails and Lup is twirling her wand through her fingers lazily.

 _How do they do that?_ Lucretia can’t help but think frantically. _How do they not care?_

“This machine,” says Davenport, “is remarkable in a multitude of ways, many of which you will already be aware of. It has enabled us to perfect the technology required for inter-planar travel, a feat previously though impossible. It is a self-sustaining energy source, and it has blown open our understanding of atomic physics. One interesting feature we have discovered which has not been widely publicised, is it’s ability to detect bonds. Planar bonds are the bonds which connect us with each other and the world around us throughout time and we did not know they _existed_ until this light touched down. This machine is essentially powered by bonds, and it performs best in environments which are bond-heavy.”

He breaks off to glance around the room, continues once a suitably dramatic pause has built. “Mr Bluejeans has been doing a lot of work on this bond science and he-”

Lucretia can hear the twins, muttering in low tones.

Lup, incredulously: “Blue… jeans?”

Taako, struggling to keep his laughter quiet: “The man named himself after his favourite fashion item and it’s not even a good one! Blue jeans! I’m changing our name to Velourtracksuit Lup, I can’t believe we’ve never thought of it before!”

“The man’s a genius!”

“- has determined that not only can this machine detect current, existing bonds, it can also be used to visualise potential ones. This machine is not restricted by the same limits of time and space as we are. We have observed this phenomenon in the lab and what we see is it following bonds along a time axis, into the future. It detects _future bonds_. For example, Mr Bluejeans and the cup of coffee he was about to drink.” Davenport pauses for a laugh, which the audience duly gives him. Barry looks mildly embarrassed. “We thought we’d see what it had to say about the thirty of you.”

He presses a button and the bond machine whirs faster. “First,” says Captain Davenport, over the noise of the engine, “Existing bonds. The connections between you and this world, made visible.”

He presses another button and the space between Taako and Lup _explodes_.

Through blinding, shocking network of light that forms between the twins, Lucretia sees them lunge towards each other and grab hold.

“TURN IT OFF YOU FUCKING MADMAN!” screeches Taako, just as Captain Davenport powers down the bond engine.

There is silence in the wake.

Taako and Lup are left standing, hands clasped tight to each other, wands out, ears flat back against their heads.

“Smart!” exclaims Taako, three octaves higher than normal. “SMART. Turn on a bond engine in a room with _twins_. The fucking _intelligence_ in this place, I swear to _God… CHALUPA WILL YOU CEASE._ ”

Lup is checking Taako from head to toe, hands running fast over his arms, his chest, knocking his hat off as she checks for head injury. Once she determines he’s fine, she turns back to Davenport with a snarl in place.

“It’s not dangerous!” Davenport says, sounding a little squeaky in the face of Lup’s rage. Lucretia doesn’t blame him, she has never seen Lup look like this, so feral, so furious. The twins usually avoid seriousness like the plague, but Lup looks like she’s about to seriously murder the next person who comes near them. “It’s not actually fire, it won’t hurt anyone.”

“Okay my dude, next time you stand in the middle of it!” shrieks Taako. “It’s _real fun,_ be my guest and _knocketh thyself out_.”

Davenport shakes his head. “We need to continue with this process for the rest of the applicants, so if you need to step out…”

Lup and Taako glance at one another then back at Davenport, and change tact on a dime.

“ _Fuck_ no, we’re not opting out just cause your bond machine can’t handle our fucking _resplendance_ ,” says Lup. “Bring it.”

“Alright then,” says Davenport, “We’ll turn down the frequency but you may want to shield your eyes.”

“ _You_ may want to shield _your_ eyes,” mutters Taako.

And then the bond machine whirs to life again, and the light explosion between Taako and Lup ignites. It’s smaller this time, but still bright enough that the siblings are lit up like the twin suns. The glow around them is diffuse and otherworldly. Lucretia squints through the brilliance and notices that the light has coalesced into hundreds of ropes of light bound tightly around them, wrapped around their clasped hands and up their arms. 

“This is _sick,_ ” says Lup, who has obviously come to terms with the light now that she’s sure it’s not actively harming her brother.

“Hells yeah, light of creation accessorisation,” says Taako, tracing their bound hands with his eyes.

“Light of creation is the new black,” says Lup, “Tell all your friends.”

“Thank you mysterious alien light for finally bringing some fucking aesthetic to this nerd school.”

Now that Lucretia’s eyes have adjusted to the light in the room, she has a chance to appreciate the others in the room. Most everyone - notably, not the twins - has a light connecting them to the Institute itself, the ground beneath their feet.  A few others have bonds connecting them to each other: a couple near the back of the room, a small group of friends. No one has anything matching the brilliance of the twins’ bond. Lucretia looks down last, because it honestly hadn’t occurred to her to do so, and sees a thin, almost spider-web delicate strand of light stretching out from herself. She follows it with her eyes, up and across a few feet, straight into the tangled mess of the twins’ bonds. They haven’t noticed it because they’re too busy trying to brainstorm how to ‘get the look’ without invoking a bond machine in future.

“Alright,” says Davenport, observing the room. “Now the experimental part. A warning, I wouldn’t be surprised if this simply lights up everyone in the room. Technically by nature of you all being here, you are all potentials for the mission, and would therefore all have potential bonds. This is unlikely to determine anything, but-” he gives the audience a mischievous grin, “in the interests of science…”

He presses a few buttons, and then the room goes red. Davenport says quickly, “If you don’t have a red bond, please move to the back of the room.”

As people move, the picture becomes more clear. The twins are now wreathed in red light overlaying the white, but they are not the only ones. So too is Magnus Burnsides, the warrior human and only other member of the Institute near Lucretia in age. Merle Highchurch, the dwarf cleric, is swamped in red, as is an incredibly surprised looking Barry Bluejeans. Davenport is scarlet from head to foot, and so… Is Lucretia.

Between them span huge sweeping ribbons of red. It ripples like silk when they move, then pulls taught.  She has a split moment, where she looks across the room, across her six magnificent plumes of red light and the six other people they are attached to, and thinks. _I’m looking into the future_.

Then Lup says, “Oh I take it back. Red is _definitely_ the new black.”


End file.
